The Teacher's Timeline
by His Lil' Half-Blood Princess
Summary: Severus Snape recalls his time at Hogwarts as a professor.


_**I am awful, awful, awful for not updating with this one-shot thing. I have decided to publish 2 one-shots today and the final two chapters of Lily's Prisoner as my punishment for being lazy and your reward for being patient.**_

_**So as you may or may have not noticed, this story is called The Teacher's Timeline. It's just a nice little scene where Snape thinks about his entire time at Hogwarts as a teacher. I was just on a vacation and my room had a lovely view of the bay. And every morning I would go out on the dock and look over the bay and just think. Unfortunately, JKR decided to put a lake at Hogwarts instead of a bay, but some random body of water is fine.**_

_**Guess who I'm dedicating to? SANTA CLAUS! Ha ha, yeah right, that won't be until my Christmas special! :) Nah, this is to SS19 again. I'm so sorry that I am being a total plagerizer but when I am idealess, I often like flipping through my favorite fanfiction stories that are not my own . . . and probably 98% are yours!**_

_**And my dear readers, I hope you enjoy this story . . . 13/20 summer one-shots (that just ruined to whole . . . effect, didn't it?).**_

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The sun rose over the lake. The dark blue sky still covered the world above, but the horizon was literally dancing with color. Yellow, light orange, light pink, and sky blue colored the line between the heavens and the earth. The sun seemed to be rising literally right above the lake, shining its golden lake across the water. He stood silently watching it and a sigh crossed his lips. These moments, when he was alone, away from that awful castle, were what he lived for now.

He had always disliked teaching. It never gave him pleasure. But he had been given a small amount of power and it helped him quench his thirst for the huge amount he had wanted and nearly received with the Dark Lord. And at least he had some people in the castle who would speak with him. Dumbledore, Minerva, various Defense teachers. Now, that was all over. Dumbledore was dead, Minerva was infuriated, and everyone else was the same. Those who spoke with him now were portraits and the Carrows. The portraits were annoying and were giving him useless advice. The Carrows were the same. Only Dumbledore's portrait was of any help or company but Dumbledore was often out looking around the castle, watching the students, making sure they were safe. But Snape always longed for Dumbledore to return and give him the company he never had anymore.

He remembered a time when he didn't want to see Dumbledore at all . . .

_"Potions Professor!" he hissed angrily to himself, slamming the door to his quarters. What kind of mental case was Dumbledore? He couldn't teach! He wasn't going to teach! It was what Dumbledore called "A way to use a brilliant mind and keep it close at hand". What the hell was he, a slave? That's what Dumbledore thought he was and he didn't like it. He kicked the trash bin with fury and watched it topple over. He slammed down into his desk and pulled out some writing materials to fill out a form Dumbledore was making him do. This was not normal. usually he was so composed; He always had so much control over himself. But he was too angry to care. "For the God damn greater good," Snape said, throwing his blotchy quill into the fireplace. He stood up abruptly and slammed himself into the couch. He stared into the fire and watched the quill turn to ashes, wondering how long this was going to last._

He was so naive then. he didn't realize how good it was. Well, it wasn't his dream occupation, but it had been working very well. He was near Dumbledore, he had a good job, he had some power and he was safe. From the government, the social world, everything. It was simple then. When he had people.

How he missed being able to talk to someone. A living, breathing human being who would sit beside or across from him and speak to him. He spoke to people, of course, but there would be hostility and scowls and angry remarks and cruel sarcasm. He was always known for being very sarcastic, but he had meant it as more as teasing. These remarks were cruel and filled with hatred. Nobody was concerned for him anymore.

He remembered when he had people who actually cared to some degree . . .

_"Severus, are you all right?" came Minerva's voice from the door. He looked up from his work. She had just entered the staff room with a concerned look on her face._

_"I'm fine," he said. _

_"Are you sure?" she asked. "You look absolutely exhausted."_

_"I can't deny that I'm tired, but I'm perfectly fine otherwise." He looked back down at his papers._

_Minerva sat down beside him. "You should get some rest. Albus has you working too hard."_

_Snape gave a smirk. "Try telling him that. I dare you."_

_"All right, I will," she said standing up. He looked up at her, surprised._

_"You're honestly going?"_

_"Of course," she said. "It wouldn't do any of us any good if you passed out during a class."_

_"Indeed not," he said. "But that's no reason to go complaining to Dumbledore."_

_"It's a perfectly good reason in my book," she snapped. "You be careful." And with that she left, leaving Severus feeling confused._

He wished those days would return.

But that wasn't exhaustion. No, he felt real exhaustion when the Dark Lord returned and he would go to Death Eater meetings once more. Being hit with a constant Cruciatus was much more exasperating and tiring than a pile of papers to grade. And Dumbledore knew that. So he gave him slack. Slack he didn't want. His proud self often declared that he was fine and that he could keep up with everything. But that declaration would not be proved correct as he would often just collapse down onto Dumbledore's sofa with a fever a few measly minutes-perhaps seconds- later.

But there was no more comfort. Because there was no more physical pain. Instead, the emotional pain grew substantially.

He had thought in the beginning that this whole teaching thing was Dumbledore's way of using him for his own needs. He thought Dumbledore didn't care about him at all. Severus thought that Dumbledore only gave him a second chance because it would put _him _in good light. Years would pass and he would start to rethink these thoughts. Still, he felt like he being used.

He didn't feel like Dumbledore truly cared for him. Never. Until, early one very cold February morning . . .

_The door to the office opened and he stumbled through. Dumbledore looked up at him and his eyes widened. "Severus!"_

_Severus was leaning against the door frame, trying to keep his balance. He was a mess; He was bruised and scarred and didn't even have the strength to stay standing. He was shivering and Albus doubted it was just because of the cold weather. "What happened?" asked Dumbledore, walking over to him._

_"I'm fine," he said. His words were slurred and shaky. Albus shook his head._

_"That is one lie I will __**not **__believe." He took Severus's arm. The younger man flinched away. _

_"I can walk myself." He pushed himself off the door frame and stumbled over to the couch. He grabbed onto the back of a chair when he nearly fell over. Albus persisted and took his arm again. This time, Severus didn't resist. Albus helped him over to the couch and Severus sat down. _

_"Severus, this cannot keep happening!" Dumbledore said. He quickly conjured a goblet of water. "You need to drink this."_

_Severus accepted the cup, took a sip, and handed it back. He wrapped his arms around himself. "It's cold in here."_

_"You think so?" asked Dumbledore, feeling worried. He had every candle and fireplace lit because of the cold weather and it was perfectly warm in here. If Severus thought this was cold, then the dungeons would be a nightmare. "Severus, it's only 2 o'clock. Why don't you stay here tonight? You need rest."_

_"No," said the other man, who was massaging his temples. "I can't intrude."_

_"It is not intruding, Severus. It's accepting a . . . well, a gift. Stay here tonight."_

_Severus said nothing._

_"I'm going to fetch Poppy. I think you may have a fever."_

_"No . . ." he said. "Don't get her. Don't . . . bother . . ." He leaned against the couch with his eyes closed._

_Dumbledore sat down beside him. "Hush, Severus. You're not a bother. You're not a burden. And you never will be, no matter how much you think you are. You've been working so hard, ever since you came to Hogwarts. You're deeply appreciated." He stood up. "Now, rest." Dumbledore wondered, as he wrote Poppy a note, if Severus had heard him . . ._

He had heard him. Those words, words of comfort and relief, proved that Dumbledore did indeed care. Words were often lies, but something made him feel that those words were not lies at all.

The sunrise was nearly over and the castle was waking up. He gave a sigh. It was time for another day. He shook his head. How many more days would he have to play the role of Evil Headmaster? He didn't know. He turned away from the lake and walked back to his school.

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_**I actually liked this idea, but I wasn't too crazy about the ending line. But at least I got something done. I would feel very appreciated if I received a review or two. I love seeing what people think. It's so much fun! If you get a chance, just click that button, write a comment or two and send it! I love commentary! **_


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